


Land of sand and stars

by Favaar



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drabble, Impala, One Shot, Pseudo-Incest, Teen Dean Winchester, Teen Sam Winchester, Weechesters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-16
Updated: 2014-02-16
Packaged: 2018-01-12 16:11:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1191429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Favaar/pseuds/Favaar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This fic is inspired by the song Passenger Seat by Dead Cab for Cutie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Land of sand and stars

Sam remembered a time before all this, before The Trials, Heaven and hell, angels, demons, before Jess, even. All of it. A time when he dozed in the front seat in the impala, with Dean driving down some begotten road in the dark. 

They where only kids, as her old tires charged down asphalt lines where they searched for escape. Or, at least Sam searched. Dean was content to sit beneath the dry, endless Kansas sky with empty bottles marking up the shelf. 

Sam watched and knew, he was made of something other than whiskey and dust, loss and calloused hands. He would be someone, would not hide, but run. 

In the meantime, his place was here. Sinking into the soft leather and singing along to whatever was on the radio. Or Deans rising collection of cassette tapes. He reached his arm out the rolled down window, and curved his hand into the wind. 

The cold whipped past his fingers and chilled his arm until it blushed red, and his hair flung in every direction across his face. Teal eyes squinted and stared, at the passing fields and the dry, empty basin of the surrounding desert. It always unsettled him. He always felt it was too empty. 

They weren't on their own yet, but they where convinced that they where gonna be. They sure as hell seemed like it as they drove for miles and miles on cracked, barren roads that cast heat waves far down the line. The stars all peeked out to meet them in the dead silent night. 

They where the only ones that existed in the vast land of sand and stars. As they lay on the hood and dozed, an occasional breeze lifting strands of honey hair, they drank their last beer. 

When Sam thinks on it later, he doesn't know why the hell Dean indulged him so. He'd taken him everywhere, driven him out of town, past cities and into the dry wilderness whenever he'd asked. Whenever he'd been even slightly wanderlust, they'd escape again. 

But I guess it makes sense, when your brother's the only friend you've got. The desert calls him out, under the sun and into the sand that grits in your teeth, digs under your nails. 

They would breeze up the steps of old diners and swap stories with strange locals, all with the emptiness of the desert reflected in their eyes. Sam saw it, and wondered if Dean saw it too. Though sometimes, he could see that same tired listlessness in his brother. 

Like looking through a glass of water, Sam sees all Dean's distortions. Sees childhood lost, maybe never really within grasp. 

Dean stumbles in the dark, sometimes, to where Sam lies snoozing. Not asleep, really. He's always planning, thinking about leaving. 

And he just stands there in the door way. He just leans there wavering and bleary eyed, staring at the 'sleeping' mass of his younger brother like he's waiting for something to happen.


End file.
